


Sacrifice

by confxsed



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies, Gen, Violence, War, how fili and kili should have died, lots of fighting, whole thing is fighting pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed/pseuds/confxsed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fili and Kili had fallen defending [Thorin] with shield and body." - The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien.</p><p>Thorin's final battle as it should have been in the movie - with his nephews by his side, defending him.</p><p>Warnings: Graphic violence and major character deaths! Would not recommend reading if you're not prepared for that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of feel like this story was a bit rushed, so sorry about that! I didn't intend for it to be all fighting, but that's how it ended up.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The last scene between bilbo and thorin was taken from the movie, I didn't write it.

Thorin, Fili and Kili stood atop a peak of raven hill, back-to-back, watching a swarm of angry orcs running down towards them. Thorin found himself wishing his best warrior, Dwalin, was with them but the dwarf was fighting a pack of orcs somewhere further down the hill.

Kili, being the only one with a bow, was attempting to pick the orcs off one by one as they approached, but there were far too many for him to make a real difference.

“Stand your ground,” Thorin advised his nephews urgently, “stay as close as possible to me. Do not let them surround you.”

All too soon the orcs were too close to shoot. Kili put his bow away and drew out his sword, swinging it menacingly. Fili already had his two swords out, legs apart, knees bent, prepared for what was about to come.

Suddenly the orcs were amongst them and Thorin and his nephews dived into the battle. Kili took his uncle’s rights side and started swinging his sword, slashing at the oncoming orcs. He managed to keep his back to Thorin so he was able to take one orc at a time. He heard grunts and screams, and the steely noise of swords hitting metal, but he was too busy to look to see what his family were doing.

Kili ducked as a sword swung at his head, the blade so close he felt the wind pass over his hair. He plunged his sword into the stomach of the orc and then kicked him down, pulling his own sword out in the process, and turning to face his next victim.

On Thorin’s other side Fili was ducking and weaving in between orcs, swinging, slashing, stabbing and thrusting his swords at the filth threatening his little brother and his uncle. Blood was splashing all over his face and going in his eyes, but he did not, could not, stop to wipe it off.

Thorin was roaring with anger and frustration, his sword a blur, as he killed orc after orc. He was trying to take on as many as possible, while keeping an eye on all his surroundings. He could see Kili had not yet been touched by a blade, his training clearly coming into effect. Thorin’s heart pounded furiously as he could not see well enough where Fili was. As he beheaded one orc, and smashed another in the face with the hilt of his sword, Thorin caught a glimpse of blonde hair swishing through the chaos.

Fear was making his muscles shaky and his palms sweaty. _Please. Please, Mahal, let my nephews live. I should have never brought them on this forsaken quest._ He could not focus properly while he was trying to keep his family alive.

There was a break in the fighting for a moment, as the Durins had fought off the closest pack. Thorin saw, mercifully, that Fili and Kili were so far unharmed. The stench of dead was in the air, the bodies of many dead orcs strewn around where they stood. The snow around them had turned red with blood.

Another pack of orcs were sprinting in their direction, even more than last time, their yells of fury filling the air. They began fighting again and there were so many that Thorin could no longer keep track of his nephews. They began separating even further and he could do nothing about it.

“Thorin!” Fili’s voice shouted above the deafening noise of battle in warning. Thorin looked up and saw Azog, the pale orc, standing behind the pack, a menacing smile on his ugly face.

Thorin could not focus on him for long as he suddenly became overwhelmed by the battle. There were too many, far too many orcs. He swung and stabbed with his blade, but there were two waiting to replace each orc he killed. He could not take them all on. He was going to die.

“Uncle! No! Fili, help!” Kili screamed, fear gripping his heart as he saw Thorin struggling to hold back the orcs. He turned his back on the orcs he had been fighting and ran towards his uncle, desperate to help. Kili suddenly felt a searing pain in his side and he screamed in agony. One of the orcs he had turned his back on had shot him with an arrow as he ran away.

Gritting his teeth, Kili ran through the pain, slashing his way through the orcs at Thorin’s side. He exhaled in relief as half the orcs fighting to get to Thorin turned away from his uncle and started towards him instead. The relief was short-lived as he tried to fight them. The pain in his side was making his strokes slower and weaker. Kili backed up, trying to find more room. He swung his sword at the closest orc, who ducked. Kili stumbled forward and felt a sharp blade pierce his chest. He grunted as blinding pain took hold of him. He fell to his knees and the orc quickly dislodged his blade.

Kili looked up into the hideous face of the orc who had delivered the final blow. It smiled and said triumphantly “Now you die, dwarf-scum.”

The last thing Kili remembered before everything went black and he no longer felt pain was the taste of blood on his tongue.

“NOOOOO! NO, KILI!!” Fili’s heart-wrenching screams filled the air, making Thorin turn towards his youngest nephew. Kili lay on the ground, eyes closed, drenched in blood.

“Kili!” He cried. Both he and Fili ran toward their beloved Kili in panic. Fili and Thorin, blind with anger and grief, killed orc after orc until there were no more left around them.

Fili knelt in the snow beside his little brother and clung to him. “Wake up! Wake up, Kili, please.” He shook his brother’s unmoving form. “You can’t leave me here. WAKE UP!” the young dwarf sobbed.

Thorin bent down to smooth the hair back of Kili’s face. Tears ran down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Kili. So sorry”, he whispered, his voice breaking.

A sickening laugh made his head turn. Azog approached with the ten remaining orcs who had been guarding him.

Thorin stood up, his anger returning. “Fili, get up” he commanded.

“No,” the blonde dwarf whimpered. He still clutched his dead brother’s form, shaking with anguish.

“He’s dead, Fili. There’s nothing you can do.” Thorin whispered, swallowing back his tears. He gripped his sword tighter, adjusting his grip as Azog and the orcs reached him.

“It’s your turn to die, false King,” came the raspy voice of the pale orc. He swung his war hammer at Thorin, who jumped out of the way, turning to face his enemy.

Thorin’s cry of rage brought Fili back to his senses. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Kee,” he whispered to Kili. Fili leant down and gave his brother one final kiss on his forehead as farewell.

He then stood, anger making his fists clench and his eyes burn. He would not let Thorin fight alone while he still had strength left in him. He took on the orcs as Thorin fought with Azog. The Warhammer made the ground shake when it smashed into the snow, missing his uncle every time.

Fili managed to cut off the arm of one orc, while one of his swords was knocked from his grip. He shifted his remaining blade into his right hand and stabbed another with a cry of rage. He cut down six more orcs, until only two remained.

Thorin blocked Azog’s hammer with his sword, but the force of the impact knocked him to the ground. He leapt up immediately, slicing his blade into the pale orc’s stomach. He grunted with frustration as he realised the cut was too shallow to be fatal. Azog dropped his hammer with a snarl.

Fili took on one orc, his sword continually coming up to block its strikes. Movement caught his eye, and with a cry of surprise he saw the other orc turn towards his uncle instead.

“Thorin!” He screamed. But Thorin, with all his focus on Azog, had not seen the orc raise his axe to strike him. Without thinking, Fili threw his sword with swift accuracy. It sliced into the orc’s back and it fell to the ground with a wail.

Fili’s eyes widened as he realised he was now weapon less, but before he could react the last orc thrust his sword through the back of Fili’s neck, opening his throat.

“No!” Thorin froze in mid-strike, his heart in his throat. “Fili,” he called desperately.

One moment’s hesitation was all Azog needed and he stabbed Thorin through the stomach with the blade attached to his arm. Thorin groaned with pain as the metal pierced his skin. Reacting with instinct, the King brought his own sword up and in a mirror action, speared Azog in the same place. Thorin held still, watching the light go out of the pale orc’s eyes. He let go of his own sword and drew back, the orc’s blade sliding out of his stomach.

Thorin dropped onto his front in the snow, the coolness distracting him slightly from his pain and the light-headedness he felt. In his agony, he had forgotten about the last orc who was standing frozen, staring down at its fallen leader.

Thorin dragged himself slowly through the snow to his eldest nephew. The boy was covered in blood, his eyes wide and unseeing. If Thorin had the energy he would have cried, but instead, with great effort, he reached for the blonde’s cold hand and gripped it in his own.

“You worthless scum!” the last orc cried with rage. Thorin turned his head slowly, too weak to do anything but watch it approach him.

 _This is the end_ , he thought. _At least I will not have to live without my boys_.

However, before the orc could reach him, a glowing blade pierced its chest. The orc fell to reveal Bilbo and Thorin had never been more pleased to see his hobbit.

“Thorin!” Bilbo cried, dropping Sting and running to him. Thorin let go of his nephew’s hand to take Bilbo’s.

Bilbo’s eyes were full of tears. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay, Thorin.” He looked around and bit his lip. “Fili and Kili –”

“They’re dead,” Thorin rasped. “They sacrificed themselves for me.”

Bilbo heard the anguish in his King’s voice and he stroked Thorin’s face, trying to ease his pain.

“I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them.”

Thorin gave Bilbo a heartfelt, albeit weak smile. “Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books. Your fireplace. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued home above gold, it would be a merrier world.”

Thorin could not give his nephews one last look, not wanting to remember them as cold and lifeless. Instead, he turned towards the sky, his grip on Bilbo’s hand weakening.

“No, Thorin, look! The eagles! The eagles are coming.” He whispered.

But Thorin had gone still, no longer drawing breath, and Bilbo turned away crying.


End file.
